Secret T'hy'la of Vulcan - a spirk story
by magicalcookie664
Summary: Jim flees from Earth and his abusive stepfather, leaving Bones behind. After crashing on the planet Vulcan, he meets Spock, the ambassador of Vulcan's son. Spock is approaching Pon Farr, and Jim may be the only one who can save him. Without Spock, Jim will be sentenced to death by the Vulcan council. Without Jim, Spock will die. The clock is ticking and every action matters. Spirk!


**a/n Hey, I am utterly new to this writing portal. I apologise if I have made any discreditable mistakes whilst using . This story is currently being written and posted under the same name on both AO3 and wattpad. I hope it is okay and I will gladly accept any constructive criticism you are willing to give. I am forever trying to better my writing techniques (especially the formatting). I hope you enjoy this Spirk fic! :p**

**Jim Pov**

I peek around the corner to catch a glimpse of my step father, Frank, as he's lounging around in the main room, sitting in front of the TV like a lazy old sack with a bottle of beer half way to his mouth. I slink away again, pressing myself to the wall. I can't let him see me, especially now he's drunk. He's always the worst when he's drunk. Even when mom was here, he barely hid the truth from her. Too bad she's far too busy doing work off planet to be able to care.

I retreat back upstairs to my shitty room and close the door behind me. I flop onto my bed and take out my comm to talk to my best friend, Bones.

He answers within the minute. "What d'you want Jim? I ain't got time to babysit your drunken ass tonight. I do have a job you know," Good old Bones, always expecting the worst. It's often true, but it kinda hurts a bit, you know?

"I'm not drunk, Bones," I tell him,"But Frank is,"

"Keep your wits about you, Jim. Don't give him no cock to suck," he replies.

I roll over in my bed, increasingly uncomfortable. "Will try. Bones?"

"Yeah?" He replies.

I swallow,"Bones, can you help me get a ship?" I question, sitting up in bed.

"What? Jim, you crazy? You're a drop out from Star Fleet. You can't just get a ship, you insane bastard," he retorts.

I sigh, standing up and moving to where I have my bag half packed with clothes and things I'll need. "Yeah I know I can't, Bones. But you can," I reply, grabbing a shirt from the end of my bed with a star Fleet logo on and stuff it into my bag.

"Jim, why d'you want a ship?" Bones questions.

I bite my lip. I don't want to hurt him, by telling him that I'm leaving. But what can I say? A ship is something you use in space, not down here on the ground. I sigh, blowing out a long shuddering breath. "I'm leaving, Bones. I'm sick of this planet. I'm sick of this life," I tell him, throwing in a few credits and last minute stuff into my backpack before zipping it up quickly.

"Dammit Jim! You can't just leave me here on this hunk of rock!" Bones yells.

"Bones, I'm sorry. But we both know you have a job here. You can't just leave. I don't have nothing on this shitty planet. I want to leave and I want to leave now!" I reply, my voice unintentionally raising. Shit. Every time my voice raises I say things I regret.

"Jim, calm down. You're making rash decisions. Just come over to my house later tonight and we'll talk about this. Okay?" Bones replies.

His sudden kindness causes tears to prick in my eyes. If everything goes to plan, I'll probably never see him again. I swallow back a sob, resulting in a horrible chocking sound.

"Jim? Are you choking?"

I ignore Bones' voice and press my fist to my mouth, trying to stop the tears that are already streaking down my cheeks. A sob escapes my lips.

"Jim? Shit. Are you crying? You're crying. Shit," Bones replies.

I want to speak, to tell him how sorry I am, to spray my story all over him through the comm, but I can't. I just keep sobbing into my fist. I want this plan to succeed. I want to get away from this house, this planet, this life. But not Bones. He's my best friend, the one good thing that ever came out of all of this. Now I'm hurting him by telling him I have to go.

"Jim, stay there, darlin. I'm coming over,"

The comm goes dead in my hand. I just stand here, the comm in my hand totally silent, with the rucksack in my other hand, with all the stuff I'll need to get the hell away from this shit hole planet.

I wipe my eyes quickly. Jim Kirk doesn't cry. He doesn't. Yet here I am, the drying stains of tears on my cheeks, standing in the middle of my soon to be unoccupied bedroom, feeling more broken than ever.

I'm not certain how long it's going to take for Bones to arrive. So I stay in my room, lying face down on my bed. I want to make sure I don't ever show weakness again. I'm not going to cry in front of anyone. Not even Bones. I bite my lip. Bones. These past few years, I've got used to saying that name, waiting for him to meet up with me, listening as he went on and on about ride patients and shit at work. We shared a dorm together in Star Fleet. But in the end, none of this will mean anything in a few years. Wherever the hell I'm going to, I won't be able to remember this place. The point of this is to forget everything about this planet, this life of mine I've thrown myself into so far.

My comm beeps.

I roll onto my side, blowing out a long sigh. My eyes feel scratchy and sore. I sit up, reaching across my simple bedspread to take my comm from where it sits on the table beside my bed. It's a message from Bones.

_BONES: I'm just commin up to your house now. Come out and meet me._

I send a quick reply before shoving the comm into my pocket, flinging the backpack over my shoulders, and leaving the room. I'll never come back in here again.

Half way to the door I'm stopped by a highly drunken figure. Shit. In my hurry to leave, I'd forgotten to step quietly.

He's heard me. I'm never going to get out.

Panic twists in the pit of my stomach but I stand my ground, already preparing myself for what I know is to come.

"Where you goin, freak?" He demands, spit spraying out of his mouth.

I wince internally. How the hell am I going to get out of this? "Out." I answer in an acidic tone.

"You ain't goin nowhere, you little shit!" He yells.

I see the punch coming a mile away. If I had more energy, more care, then I would've dodged. Like I once did the very first times. But not anymore. I'm leaving this life behind. It doesn't matter.

I stumble back, only just managing to keep my footing on the stairs. My forehead sears and something warm and wet trickles down into my hairline.

"You are staying right here you fat ugly piece of shit!" He snarls, punching me again, this time in the mouth.

I fall against the wall, my backpack falling awkwardly against my shoulders. I mustn't make any sound. Then he'll know how much it gets to me, every word he says and every punch he throws. I can taste blood in my mouth. It's slipping out the corner of my lips.

"Your mom can't do nothin! She don't care shit about you!" He roars.

This time, I jump out of the way, giving him a huge shove.

He tilts backwards, his arms spinning like windmills as he tries to keep his balance. For one short sickening second, it seems as if he's got his balance, but then he tips, tumbling down the remainder of the stairs.

I don't waste a second. This may be the only chance I'm going to get. I bolt down the stairs, jumping over the groaning lump at the bottom, and head for the door, just as it opens and Bones steps inside.

"No!" I shout,"Out! We're going out!"

He nods silently, stepping back outside.

I rush out, slamming the door shut behind me and pressing my back against it to catch my breath.

"What the fuck happened to you in there?!" Bones demands, pulling me away from the door.

I roll my eyes,"Guess. What usually goes on?"

"We'll need to stop off at my place to give you a hypo, Jim," he tells me, taking my arm in his to help me walk.

"Hell nah!" I reply,"Bones get your fuckin hypos away from me!" I shout, struggling to move away from him.

"Shh, Jim. You're gonna wake up the whole neighbourhood," He tells me, pushing me on through the street.

"Bones, you're getting me that ship, right?" I question, wiping the blood from my mouth.

He sighs, then nods,"As much as I hate to admit it, you're safer anywhere away from that bastard step dad of yours."

"Yeah. That's why I'm leaving." I reply.

He gives a long sigh, before turning to face me, his ultimate Bonsey face on,"Jim, you're a real pain in the ass.. in multiple ways.. sometimes literally. But, you know, I'm gonna miss ya,"

I nod, trying to keep the sadness inside. I wish I didn't have to do this. I wish this life I have wasn't so shit on this goddamn planet. But it's okay, as when the years pass, I guess I'll eventually forget I had a friend called Leonard Bones McCoy. He'll just be a blurry face at the back of my memory. He'll just be a name floating around inside my head.

I wipe my eyes quickly before the tears can fall.

"Jim..darlin, don't cry.." Bones murmurs, sliding an arm around me slightly awkwardly.

But at this moment in time I couldn't care less.

I promised I wouldn't cry in front of anybody, and yet here I am, my face buried in Bones' shirt, sobbing into his chest. A lot of people could get the wrong idea from all of this. We are not romantically involved. Hell, I don't even want to think about that. But he's my friend. My best friend. I really don't want to let him go.

A few minutes later, we arrive at Bones' place. The windows are dark and the door locked, his parking space empty. It suddenly hits me that he must've dropped his work and ran when he commed me earlier. It makes me feel even more guilty about having to leave him. But I see no other way out.

I'm sick of this planet, of drowning in booze until I can't breathe and Bones has to drag me out, of meaningless drunken sex every other night, of every punch from Frank. I'm tired of this world. It's luckily I have the capabilities to fly off to go find another. That's practically what mom and Sam did, anyways. Surely they won't mind if I continue the family talent.

I'm shuddering with cold and Bones is taking far too long to shove the key in the hole.

"Ugh, it's not working!" He grunts, kicking at the door.

"You've got it the wrong way around, you sick fuck," I tell him, giving him a little nudge to the side so that I can have a crack at it.

I take the key out, looking at it hard. "Bones, that's not a door key," I remark, before throwing it at him.

He catches it with his left hand before bringing his arm down and putting the keys into his pocket.

"Oh, right. I still have your keys after... nevermind.. I have them," I explain, taking the smaller key out of my pocket and placing it into the slot on the door.

It opens with ease.

"Tada. Magic.." I mumble, pushing the rest of the door open and stepping inside.

It's a good deal warmer in here. A small smile plays itself out on my lips.

Bones follows me inside, taking the keycard out of the door and slamming it shut.

My legs suddenly feel very weak.

Bones seems to notice and decides to escort me into one of the rooms he's done up for medical work.

"Lie on that bed there, you bastard. Stay still. It'll take 5 minutes, tops," he tells me.

I eye the bed warily before sliding onto it gently. I watch from the corner of my eye as Bones readies a hypo. Hell no. I sit up quickly. I am not having that stuck in me whatever Bones thinks.

"Lie. Down." Bones demands, pushing me back into a lying position.

A small whimper escapes my lips and I find myself curling into a ball.

"Dammit Jim, calm the hell down," Bones instructs.

I jolt as I feel the stab of the hypo going into my arm. I hate it every time.

"Booones.. stoooop.." I groan, moving away from him.

He sighs,"Jim, I don't like this at all. You're heading out there with nothing but a ship and yourself. Knowing you, you're bound to do something wrong. And I won't be able to save your ass,"

He's right. Without Bones, every scratch has the possibility to kill me. God, I don't want to think about that.

"I'll be fine, Bones," I tell him, forcing a smile as I stand up. My head aches where I got punched. "What did you give me?" I ask, rubbing my forehead.

He disposes of the hypo and appears by my side. "Painkiller. Take these," he says, handing me two hypos,"Put them in your bag. Only use them if you have to,"

I take them from him and slip them into the top of my bag.

"Come on Jim, I'm gonna get you that ship,"

**Spock Pov**

From an outsider's glance, we look normal, nothing out of place, nothing wrong, just a calm group of Vulcans and a human having a conversation.

But that is not the case.

Mother is clearly close to breaking down, and I realise that unless I leave quite soon I will be next. Normally, misfortunes such as this never occur. One always has a mate for the terrors of Pon Farr. Not me. Unless we can find one before 35 solar days are up. (5 weeks) There is very little chance of that.

Pon Farr is the time of mating. The most simple rule is mate or die. In 35 days I'll be dead.

"Sarek, there must be something you can do!" Mother exclaims.

Emotions. Most illogical. Then why am I feeling them?

"Negative, ashayam. Unless Spock has a mate then he will die," Sarek answers.

He's the perfect picture of a Vulcan ambassador and king. Precise. Wilful. Emotionless.

"How can you say that, Sarek? This is our son! Look at him!" Mother yells, turning to me with a fierce expression on her face.

I raise an eyebrow.

Sarek looks at me. "What is the purpose of this action, Amanda?" He questions.

She glares at him, actually glares, and stomps out of the room.

I turn and stare after her, half confused and half understanding.

"Spock?" Father asks.

"I will go and talk to her, father," I tell him, my tone totally emotionless, before leaving the room after my mother.

It takes a while to find her, but finally I do. I open one of the simple sliding doors out to one of the balconies. It overlooks the city of Vulcan and the view stretches out until the horizon after, desert plain after rocky desert plain.

"Mother, I wish to speak with you," I say, walking up and standing beside her. I glance at her.

It's clear she's been crying, as there are the dried tracks of tears on her cheeks as she gazes out towards the sun set on the horizon, bathing us in a deep orange light.

"Spock.." she whispers.

It takes me aback how sad she sounds. Surely, there is a chance I may acquire a mate before the 35 days are up.

"Mother, you must not mourn so. We will all die one day," I tell her. Crying makes me awkward. Vulcans never cry, so witnessing it is a confusing and unrelatable experience.

"How can you Vulcans talk of your own death like that? I don't understand it," she asks, turning and staring at me hard in the eyes. The sadness inside them breaks me.

"How else should I talk about it?" I question.

"Like it matters to you," she retorts, her eyes blazing with a sudden unknown emotion.

Humans... They confuse me greatly.

"Mother, I do not wish to die. But there is no point in getting emotional about it," I tell her. I'm going to be eating my own words later tonight.

"I don't want to loose you, Spock. We've already lost your brother to the Pon Farr because no one would mate with him. Just seven... he was taken too young.." she swallows visibly and her eyes move to study my face.

I don't want to look at her. I don't want to be forced to see what I have created. The pain that is caused because of me, because I'm not good enough. "It is my own fault, mother. I am 'halfbreed scum' and do not deserve a mate," I reply calmly.

She shakes her head, tears shining in her eyes again,"No, Spock. You don't really believe that, do you?"

"There is nothing to 'believe' mother. It is what I have been told. I must assume it is correct," I reply. I secretly thank my father for going on me so hard with Vulcan purging of all emotions. If he hadn't, I'd be crying now. Since I'm half human.

"Oh, Spock..." she whispers, moving her hand slowly forward to touch it to my cheek.

I find my eyes closing.

"I love you, you do know that, don't you?" She asks.

I nod slowly.

Suddenly, she wraps her arms around me and gives me a huge hug. "No matter what you are, or what you choose to do, you will always have a proud mother," she whispers into my ear.

Tears burn behind my closed lids on account of her words. I find myself hugging her back too, my face pressing into her shoulder. A few tears escape down my cheeks and leave little wet dots on my mother's clothes. I can feel her trembling. It hurts. 35 days... and that'll be as long as I get to live.

She pulls away, wiping her eyes while I attempt to look like I did not just cry a bit.

"Sometimes it makes me mad, you know, about your father. All that power, and he still can't save his own son," she whispers, turning her back on me so she can gaze out across the plains.

The sun has just finished setting, so the temperature is already beginning to drop.

I shiver a little, wrapping my arms around myself.

"Go inside, Spock. I don't want you to get sick," she tells me, but her meaning is clear: I don't want you to die before you have to.

Despite that fact, I give a small nod and reply,"If you wish mother," before turning and leaving the balcony, disappearing through the sliding doors. My shivering stops as the warm air inside the building gets to work. I'm going to miss this place.

I leave the room and proceed towards my own.

Half way there Sarek exits one of the side doors and and gives a little nod to me. "How is she?" He asks.

I'm not sure what to say. I'm ashamed that I allowed my emotions to break through, even if if was only for a moment. "I believe she is doing better than when you last saw her," I tell him.

"Where is she?" He asks, his eyes darting to behind me, as if he expects her to be following.

She is not, however.

"Out on the balcony," I answer, gesturing behind me to the way I have come.

"Thank you, son," he answers and walks past me.

Tears sting in my eyes on account of the way he said 'son'.

I continue on my short journey back to my room, trying the best to keep my tears inside and emotions suppressed. I slide into my room and close the door behind me. The floor is carpeted with a thin mahogany shade of fluff that has worn down over the years. I still find the carpet quite acceptable. I walk over to my bed and lie down on it, gazing up at the ceiling. I'm exhausted. I've been awake for the past few nights unable to think, just going over and over the same few thoughts in my head. I rub my eyes, blinking a few times. Vulcans only need around 5 or so hours of sleep, but that does not mean they can have no sleep.

I roll over, pulling my blankets up around me. I'm a little cold actually. The weather here is that of a desert terrain. Hot days and freezing nights. Our people have adapted to these living conditions, constructing buildings that can both be cool in the day and warm in the night. I lie on my side, staring at the wall.

My mother's words keep running through my head. I shiver, but not from the cold.

Fear of death is illogical.

But I am half human, half of my mother's kind. Humans are very emotional, and fear anything they do not understand. If she weren't my mother, than I do not know how well I would be able to cope with having a human among us. I don't understand how father fell in love with her. I can never see myself doing the same thing, especially as I'm going to be dead in not too long.

It seems we've all given up on any chance of me being able to find a mate and survive. How am I going to find a mate cooped up in here?

I sigh, rolling over to stare at the other wall. If I leave here, I have a chance of finding a mate. But if I leave here and don't find a mate, then I will die utterly alone. Do I really want to risk that? Yes. Yes I do. It's worth it, isn't it? Fear of dying alone is a human thing. I may not be afraid. We will all die in the end.

I feel myself beginning to drift off to sleep, so I shake myself and sit up. I am going to need to prepare a bag of everything I'll need to take. I've made my decision. I'm leaving, to find a mate. The desert plains are harsh, but I know where all the right rivers are and what plants to eat and not to eat.

I walk over to my cupboard made of yew wood **(idk)** and and open it, searching for the correct clothes to bring. I choose a thick warm robe for the night and three thinner slightly revealing ones for the day. I fold them neatly and place them in the bottom of one of my bags.

I glance over at my bed, where my blanket is lying, messily strewn across the mattress. I walk over, pulling it gently off and proceeding to fold it. When it is folded I slip it into the top of the bag, before closing the bag with the pull strings at the top and sliding it carefully over my shoulders.

Now, I must find a way to escape without anyone seeing or realising what I am doing. They may try to stop me. I cannot allow that to happen. I slip from my room quietly, glancing two ways down the corridors spreading left and right from where I am standing. I take the right corridor, walking slowly.

Exhaustion pushes in at me, but I ward it away, focusing on the task ahead of me. It is vital to my survival that I acquire a mate before the designated time is up. I cannot fail. Footsteps behind me cause me to dart into the nearest door, closing it quickly and silently behind me.

I cannot be found.

**a/n So, if there are any mistakes then please let me know! I hope this is alright.:)**


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